The Futurist
by textbooknarcissism
Summary: After a long day, Dean can't sleep so he calls up Castiel. Based on events that happened in "Caged Heat," and implied Destiel. One-shot.


It had been one hell of a long night. They had lost track of the spirit they were tracking, and the Impala was stolen - but don't worry, Dean got it back. Now Sam was fast asleep and Dean was wide awake and bored and it was just his luck that wasn't on at the time. So he flipped open his phone and dialed the only person who would actually talk to him at this hour of the night.

"Hello, Dean," Castiel picked up after the first ring.

"Hey, Cas, how're things?" Dean smiled.

"Good. I have spoken with the angels about something which I must tell you both when you return."

"Really? Great. Can't wai-"

"I am most regretful that I could not join you on this job, Dean," Castiel interrupted.

"What, you missing me?"

"If this is the feeling that is referred to as 'missing,' than yes, I believe I am missing you, Dean."

Okay, so Dean was kidding and didn't actually expect the guy to say yes. But he couldn't blame him; Dean knew he was hot. It was the jeans - they made his ass look _great_.

"I'm feeling horribly flattered," Dean laughed as he walked to the fridge and grabbed a beer, "missed by an angel."

"Thank you, Dean."

Dean shifted uncomfortably in his seat and cleared his throat.

"So what else is up with the angels?"

"I am not sure. There has been talk about me," Castiel confessed; and Dean almost thought he heard a hint of sadness in his voice.

"Oh yeah? Anything good?" Dean took a sip of his beer.

"They believe I am becoming too.. human. That I am going to fall."

Dean sat up in his chair and switched the phone to his other hand.

"Shit. Cas, is there anything I can do?" He didn't know why he said it, he knew it was useless.

"No," Castiel answered, a little too quickly.

"I promise I won't let you lose those perky little wings of yours."

"They aren't 'perky little wings,' but I appreciate that all the same, Dean," Castiel said, a bit more warmth in his voice.

"Oh really? Are all angels' wings as big as yours?" Dean smirked as he took another swig of his beer. The phone line was silent -

"I feel like you are confusing reality with pornography again, Dean," Castiel said from directly behind Dean, causing him to spit out his beer.

"Dude, don't ever do that again - what? Porn is reality, Cas," Dean said pointedly as he closed his cell and wiped the table with a cloth.

"So all pizza men slap the rears of babysitters to whose house they deliver?" Castiel said calmly, staring out the window. Dean laughed.

"Okay, so_ that_ wasn't reality."

"So if that is not reality, none of pornography is."

"Well it'd be a damn nice reality," Dean said, his voice hard, drinking once more from his bottle of beer.

For the first time since Castiel had arrived he turned away from the window and looked at Dean.

"Is that truly what you want reality to be, Dean?"

Dean frowned. He didn't mean it, of course, but then again he had forgotten who he was talking to.

"No."

"I did not think so," Castiel said lightly, turning back to the window. "I would not wish to be one of the babysitters of the world."

Dean smiled and titled his head back to look at the angel behind him. "So you'd rather be the pizza man?"

"I suppose it would depend on if the babysitter was someone who appealed to me," Castiel said with a gentle smile.

"And if I happened to be the babysitter?" Dean said, turning his chair around to face Castiel.

"If you were the babysitter, Dean, I think I would mind that reality much less," Castiel said, piercing Dean with those blue eyes of his.

Dean raised an eyebrow at him.

"Oh really? So you think you could spank me and get away with it?"

Castiel smiled softly and glanced over at a very passed out Sam.

"I think it is about time you slept, Dean."

"Nah," he drank some more beer, "I'll pass on the whole sleep thing, thanks."

Castiel frowned and locked eyes with Dean once more, keeping his hands behind his back. "You have a big day tomorrow."

Dean studied Castiel's eyes; his expression, before nodding slowly. He stood up, walked over to his bed and pulled back the covers. He turned back to the window where Castiel stood, but he was already gone, leaving only the sound of fluttering wings for no longer than a second.

...

**A/N: First Supernatural fic, and yes, I ship Destiel. I have no shame. Anywho.. Based after such events in "Caged Heat," or like pretend that happened whenever and base it whenever you want. The title has nothing to do with anything but is just random cause I suck at titles. But um, was it crappy? I think it was crappy. Review please? D:**


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